


Luck

by Eliizaah7



Series: Red vs Blue (Crack ships - short stories) [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, RvB Rare Pair Week, non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 19:50:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14576376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliizaah7/pseuds/Eliizaah7
Summary: Where Grif and North share a bond.





	Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> A new story of a rare ship, I hope you like it.  
> Again, my native language is not English. Thanks to Ria for all the help.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading.

 

North sighs, adjusting his sunglasses, smiling at the feeling of tranquility and peace that he hasn’t experienced since ... well, never. He looks at the paradise that is the moon that Chorus had prepared them to live. It is just perfect.

He gently pats in the clear water of the lake, the water between his toes, the soft grass on his thighs, the sun warming his exposed skin, everything seemed unreal. However, it is real- he is there, with the Reds and Blues, with Wash, York and Carolina, and everything is _fine_.

He sighs, closing his eyes focusing on the sounds around him: the sound of the water moving, the cheerful laughs from Donut and Caboose who were playing in the deepest part of the lake, more distantly, the chipper talk between York and Carolina, Sarge screaming curses and orders in his workshop, probably trying to make Lopez waterproof, the distant screams of Tucker since he and Grif surely are arguing again to decide the name of their band.

Wash and Simmons’ giggling make him open his eyes. They are sitting in front of him on the other side of the lake, the redhead huddled with the Freelancer, their sides pressed against each other, the slight freckles of Simmons' shoulder joining in a constellation with the freckles of the chest and shoulder of the blond soldier. North smiles in a relaxed way, he jump into the lake, propelling himself in his palms.

 

 

* * *

After he and York managed to survive thanks to Theta and Delta respectively, they maintained a nomadic life, unable to find a place to settle without danger of being discovered.

When they found Carolina, she had dragged them on a mission, infiltrating a group of "soldiers" led by a couple of mercenaries who sought to destroy a planet. Then, North had known that he would never manage to have the civil life that he so longed for. However, now he could maybe have a team again, a family. And that's exactly what he found when he met the Reds and Blues.

The group adopted them almost immediately, fighting both sides to obtain a Freelancer for their team. Now both he and York are red team members to Sarge's joy.

* * *

 

He slams his hand against the surface of the lake, pouring water on the pair of boys huddled together on the shore.

“North!” Wash complains, scrubbing his face, removing the drops of water from his eyes. Simmons laughs while doing the same.

“Hey lovebirds,” he says jovially. “Why are you not swimming?”

“Because, we didn’t want to get wet.”

“Ha, that’s not what it seems,” Tucker shouts, running to the shore where North is and jumps into the water. He emerges from the water, his dark skin shining in the sunlight, and he steps next to North completely soaked. “Bow chika bow wow.”

“How did you even heard that?” Simmons asks, his cheeks flushed. “Weren’t you with Grif in the kitchen?”

“I’m everywhere, nerd,” he responds, releasing his dreadlocks so that they fall on his shoulders. “And the fatass dumped me for swallowing everything in the kitchen.”

“Uh huh…” Simmons murmurs, rolling his eyes, then frowns at Tucker. “Wait, did he already miss the mushrooms effect?”

“The fuck should I know?” the dark man asks. North looks at Simmons raising an eyebrow.

“Mushrooms?”

 “Yeah, the luminous mushrooms that he found in a cave,” he complained, obviously annoyed. “If he eats now, he’ll spend the rest of the afternoon throwing up.”

“Well, you are his official “mommy” - go and check him up, then send him to bed with a glass of milk and a kiss,” Tucker replies with a sarcastic grin. Then he throws himself backwards in the water, swimming his way to Donut and Caboose.  

Simmons looks at North and then at Wash, giving his boyfriend’s wet thigh a gentle squeeze.  

“I have to go see Grif”

Wash whines back, tightening his arm around the redhead’s waist. “But we were going to…”

“I can go instead,” North interrupts, amused by Wash little pout.

Simmons looks at him. “You sure? He is possibly already throwing up.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll take care of him. You guys can continue with whatever you were doing…” he replies with a little smirk, and Wash gives him a shiny and grateful smile.  

North comes out the lake, his purple shorts dripping water. He gives them a quick squeeze to eliminate the excess moisture and goes to the shared kitchen. When he arrives, he doesn’t see Grif anywhere.  

He walks through the corridors, listening intently for some sign of the orange man’s whereabouts, a small smile clinging to his lips. Now, if he is completely honest, he likes Grif, as in, he likes him a lot.  

...

He and the Hawaiian man had clicked immediately when they first met. Grif’s carefree, slack and sarcastic personality makes him feel really comfortable in a weird way, and it seems that the other man felt the same, since it is not strange that both of them, without saying a word, just meet in the movie room, lie down together and see some bad movie about apocalypses; or that during the meals they would end up sitting next to each other; or that some nights, both of them would crash in the kitchen to get a snack. They can talk and talk about everything and nothing, and it is just great how easy it is.  

Grif has a sister and it is comforting to hear him talk about her, knowing he would never see South again. It is much easier to tell the tanned man about how complicated the situation had been with her, and he knows that no one better than Grif would understand how his world fell apart when he knew that his sister had put him in a sure death position, not caring about him at all.  

So, yes, Grif is _special_ for him. And he is pretty sure that he is too for the tanned man. Not to mention that he finds Grif quite attractive, not that it matters anyways.

...

A bang in his room makes him frown, and he silently opens the door, finding Grif sprawled on his bed. North approaches the bed, cocking his head. The Hawaiian’s brown hair covers part of the pillow and the blanket covers his face. He smiles when the man doesn’t move, soft snores revealing him.  

Carefully, his hand settles on the tangle of brown hair, undoing the knots with his fingers. When North sits on the edge of the bed, Grif is still not moving. This lasts several minutes, North running his fingers through his hair, to the point where he already got rid of almost all the knots, the tips of his fingers finds their way to the scalp of the sleeping man, starting to massage and scratch softly, obtaining a satisfied purr from Grif.  

He can’t help but smile as the orange man, still asleep, tilts his head, looking for more contact when he moves his fingers away. After a while, Grif’s uneven eyes flutter somnolently.     

“Hey there” North whispers, a little nervous tone in his voice, his fingers still caressing the spot behind Grif’s ear.

“Hey…” he responds, a cheerful little smile adorning his relaxed expression, he looks so _cute_ , his hand goes up to find the blonde’s hand.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, I was…” North cuts himself off when he realizes that instead of taking his hand away, Grif is squeezing it more tightly against his head. The Freelancer moves his fingers again, scratching the spot, the Hawaiian sighs happily “Oh…” He smiles again. “So… you find my bed comfortable?

“I’m sorry North, but yeah, it’s quite comfortable,” Grif says, shrugging his shoulders, the bed moving slightly at the gesture. “… and it smells good”  

North laughs. “Well, yeah… yesterday I washed the sheets, they should smell good.”

“I don’t mean that” Grif whispers, so low that North barely can hear him, but he does, causing his cheeks flush.

“Ehm, Simmons was kinda worried, you know?” he asks. Grif looks at him, and his thumb starts caressing the side of North’s hand. “Something about mushrooms, food and you throwing up”

“Ugh, it only happened once,” he answers. The blonde’s fingers are carefully entangled in a lock of hair, and Grif looks down. “So… Simmons sent you to find me?”

“Well, no, not exactly. He was going to come and I offered to do it instead”

“Oh,” he murmurs. North gently pulls a little the lock between his fingers, making Grif look at him again.

“You never told me anything about those mushrooms,” he says, his voice divided between reproach and amusement.

“Well, they are basically like, ehm, crystal meth on crystal meth”

“Ok, ok, but… how did you end up eating them?”

“It’s like… well, there were no more Oreos or any sweet snack and it was more than a week before we get something from Chorus… and I found this shiny mushrooms in a cave,” he says, making North let out a laugh.

“And you think that “shiny mushrooms” would be a good replacement for chocolate and cream cookies?”

“I… they didn’t look that bad,” he responds just a second before they both laugh.  

“They were shining, Dex,” North snaps, twisting his hand, the stroking of Grif’s thumb reaching into his palm. They both blush a little at the use of the first name.

They remain silent, each in their own thoughts. North frowns upon realizing that he sat on his bed using wet shorts. He looks down and sees his mattress with the obvious damp spot. Grif’s fingers move across his palm, North turns his hand a little more, their thumbs meeting an pressing against each other.

“You know? Wash didn’t seem happy with Simmons coming here,” he tells him, looking for a change of subject. Grif smiles with mockery.

“Wash just lets himself be influenced by what Tucker told him about me and Simmons,” he shrugs, North’s thumb presses harder against Grif’s.

“Ah, I never heard anything from Tucker about that.”

“Well, he swears that Simmons and I were together since we were stationed in Blood Gulch.”

North bites his lip and raises his eyebrows. “Oh, and why would he think that?”

“I don’t know. Tucker had so much of a shitty sex life, so I think he needs to dump his frustration on someone.”

“So, you and Simmons…?”

“Nah, he is my best friend,” he answers. “Don’t tell him I said that, he is a total sappy dude”

North chuckles. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him anything but, you know, maybe Tucker thinks that because, you know, after so long of being always together, you and Simmons…”

“Yeah, perhaps with people different from the nerd and me, that situation would have turned the involved ones out to be a couple.” He laughs. “But, you know what? He falls in love really quick and really easy, he doesn’t need so much time to get a crush on someone that he finds attractive, although he does need time to create a real feeling for that guy. It is not easy for Simmons to _really_ trust anyone.”  

North smiles at Grif’s explanation. It is easy for him to see how much the Hawaiian esteems the redhead.

“I see,” he murmurs. “So, during the time you spent in the canyon, was Simmons never attracted to anyone?”

 Grif shakes his head. “Nope, and believe me, I would have known if it was the case.” Grif says, rubbing the tip of his thumb against North’s. “But when the nerd _really_ saw Wash for the first time, he got completely hooked.” He raises his eyebrows. “Of course, this happened after him and the Meta practically kidnapped Simmons, after Wash shooting Donut and trying to kill us… you know, after all that, when Wash came with us and become the new leader of the Blue Team that Simmons _looked at him_ for the first time.”  

“What a nice love story,” North says with a little amusement. Grif let out a little huff and shrugs.

“Well, they fit perfect together, so yeah, they were really lucky to find each other”  

“Mmm, yeah I think so.” North smiles. “So… what about you Grif, have you had any luck?”

The intense two-colored gaze focuses on North’s grey eyes, and Grif swallows slowly.

“I don’t know.”  

“What do you mean by: _I don’t know_?”  

“Well, sometimes I think so,” he whispers, feeling North pressing his fingers lightly into his scalp. “And sometimes I think it’s just my brain making me see him how I want to see him.”

“Uh,” North whispers, leaning a little bit onto the Hawaiian. “What do you want to see, Grif?”

Grif doesn’t answer, and his free hand goes up to North’s chest, but he stops himself before his hand touches the Freelancer. North sighs and takes the hand in the air, pressing the palm against his chest. The breath of the tanned man gets stuck in his throat, while the blond soldier pants quietly. Their gazes connect to each other.  

North bends a little further, stopping at the distance of a fist from Grif’s flushed face. The sturdiest man slightly raises his face, his nose barely touching North’s.

“You know?” North’s voice comes almost as a purr, his breath brushing the plump lips of the Sim Trooper. “I think I am having luck.” His hand strokes a tanned cheek.

He tilts his face a little more, his lips finally meeting with Grif’s, the hand on North’s chest moving to cup the Freelancer’s neck, pulling him closer.

His skillled tongue sweeps against Grif’s lower lip, and he responds by opening his mouth, willingly receiving North’s wet sweet caresses. The kiss is slow, hot and a little nervous. Tongues brushing against each other, lips fluttering and hands clinging to each other tightly, their hearts hitting their chests with irregularity.

They separate when they need air, their lips parting away with a small snap, and North leans his forehead on Grif’s.

“Fuck, North,” Grif gasps.  

“Alright, now, please tell me that you were referring to me, because if not, this will be so awkward,” North sighs, Grif lets out a low giggle. He presses his thumb further and then turns his hand a little, intertwining his fingers with the blonde’s, his other hand caressing the back of his neck. He lifts his head, giving a chaste kiss on those soft pink lips as only answer. “Oh, good.”

“Good…”  

 

 

 


End file.
